It was beautiful and round in her tight lycra shorts. I put one hand on her ass. It was smooth and hot from the workout. I moved it around, down to he... croch...feeling where her pussy was. No way to tell through the sweat-wicking fabric if she was wet. I hoped so. I assumed so. I hooked my fingers under the top of her shorts and I peeled them down. They were tight so it took a little effort as they peeled away from her sweaty skin -- over her round ass and down to her knees. As I crouched to. Still her cunt had felt tight enough when he'd forced her down and thrust his cock into her.Her look of shock had been the most thrilling for Lumley. The women of the Lu'ai were clearly unused to this kind of treatment.Think of it as preparation for the arrival of the real world, he thought. Out there real men call the shots.The look of disgust on her face afterwards satisfied him she wouldn't be telling anyone about their moment of 'intimacy'. In Lumley's experience there was no better gag. She picked her purse and shoulder bag up off the ground and the Somalian gestured to get into his vehicle. He avoided her gaze as she got into the back seat. A tall, bald white man with a revolver trained on her sat in the back seat as well. He made certain the gag was secure before placing the hood over Helena’s head. She felt him taking her purse and bag off her shoulder and searching through them.“We got a nice piece here,” the man said in an East End London accent. From his voice and. ”Now, I never go without underwear. And I need a bra. I’m well proportioned, but big enough that I need the support. My breasts bounce around inside a shirt without one. Would I have the nerve to do what this stranger tells me to do?I did it. Sort of. I skipped the underwear, but wore an outfit with a skirt, a blouse, and a jacket. The jacket mostly concealed my top. But as the day wore on, I felt guilty. I wondered what my secret admirer would think when he saw me, as I knew he would..